


Peniel

by Sangerin



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Christmas, Episode Related, Gen, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-12
Updated: 2009-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 08:56:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sangerin/pseuds/Sangerin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob wrestled with God at Peniel.  (Spoilers through season four's "Holy Night".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peniel

They were singing again.

The Wiffenpoofs — that name had to have gotten them in trouble along the line. They were all simply too cute to be true, a fact that had been noticed by a 59 year old straight man, let alone every woman in the building.

Trapped here like everyone else by the earlier-than-forecast snowstorm, at least the Wiffenpoofs had the grace to sing for their supper. He paused, and almost called Charlie to make sure they hadn't been. Forced to sing before being fed. Of course not. His staff was better than that.

_Long lay the world, in sin and error pining…_

He'd almost told Zoe. His sweet, innocent daughter — and she'd damned well better be innocent — almost the last person on Earth he wanted to know about this. About what Fitz and Leo… no, what he'd done. Well, except for everyone else, of course. He'd be happy — mostly happy, as happy as you got in this job — if no one ever knew. Apart from all the people who already knew. They were way beyond seventeen people already. And he particularly didn't want anyone to know who might approve of what had been done. Because that would unleash a horror.

They would find out, though. Like the MS, but this secret had a far shorter half life. May 22nd to December 23rd. And not much longer.

He'd told Zoe he would do it again. That he believed what he had done had been right. He would do it again, in the same circumstances. He would hesitate, just as he had done, and he would wake up for nights afterwards in a cold sweat, and call Stanley in and be unable to talk to him. In the same circumstances, given the same information, he would do it again.

Pray God he never had to.

_…in sin and error pining…_

Regret and remorse were the problem. His problem. Grace, mercy, absolution, forgiveness — the words of his faith. If he would do this again — murder again — could he ever be forgiven?

Jacob wrestled with God at Peniel. Not exactly the plush carpet and antique chairs of the Oval Office. Could you only fight God in the wilderness? Or was the point the wilderness, the barrenness of the struggling soul?

He fell to one knee beside his desk and he prayed. Not for the first time in this room, and not so much a prayer as a desperate argument. Was he beyond forgiveness?

He had told his daughter he would do this thing again. If he had to. Would he forever be fighting God in the wilderness?

_…Fall on your knees. Oh, hear the angel voices…_

Abbey was next to him before he realised it. She reached out and cupped his face, wiping away a falling tear with her thumb.

'Oh, Jed.'

Abbey, who knew why he was on his knees in the Oval Office. Who knew state secrets because he would not and could not keep them from her. Who knew before he'd told her because she was smarter than he was and ought to have been the one behind the Kennedy desk. Except that she didn't love the politics the way he did.

He raised his eyes to meet hers, and asked the question that had been haunting him.

Her voice in reply was soothing and gentle, wrapping around him as her arms did. 'God has more capacity for forgiveness than humans. You know that.'

'But without remorse?'

'I see it every day in your eyes. I hear it each night your nightmares wake me. I know it every time you avoid confession.'

'I can't confess this.'

'God knows already. And you know it, even if your Catholic brain won't accept it.' And in his present state her drift toward Protestantism didn't seem quite as alarming as it might otherwise have been.

'I would do it again.'

She kissed his forehead.

_… Oh, hear the angel voices…_

'I still love you. I always will.' She lifted him up, and his bones creaked. She steadied him as they walked towards the Portico door. 'The girls are waiting. Zoe has a sweet little aristocrat she wants you to meet.'

'So he's charmed you too, huh?'

He stopped before they reached the door. 'Abbey?'

'I'm here. I understand.' The sympathy in her voice and the tender squeeze she gave his arm almost made him cry. He watched her swallow once, and watched her face turn pale.

And then she said, 'I forgive you.'

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the magnificent betas: Magratj, who cast a Catholic eye over the writings of this particular Protestant, and Cassatt, who ripped the grammar to shreds because it needed it.
> 
> Jacob wrestles with God at Peniel: Genesis 32:22-32. Peniel means "the face of God." Quote in summary is from the NRSV translation.


End file.
